


Home Economics

by Mossgreen



Series: 2770 ab urbe condita [49]
Category: 2770 ab urbe condita - Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Rome, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-07 02:11:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18401039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mossgreen/pseuds/Mossgreen
Summary: Willow has to make his weekly report, but there's a bit of a difference today





	Home Economics

**Author's Note:**

> So sorry it has taken me so long to update anything in this universe!! This is domestic fluff; Ven is in the background and will return next time. Double apologies for its being so short, or it would probably have been even longer before I posted anything!!

"Except you’ve forgotten the little line over the top of the _e_. Leaving that out changes how it’s said and can make it a whole different word…" Ven’s voice was quiet, yet audible, as he coached Briseis through her written work. He was in the master’s bedroom, the curtain pulled aside to air the room as a breeze wafted through the house.

Willow grinned to himself, though only momentarily as he went over his weekly report again while waiting for his master to call him in to give it. Ven sounded like a big brother, rather than a teacher. For someone who’d been told to teach the child how to read and write and was just expected to get on with it, he sounded as though he was enjoying himself.

"Willow!"

Willow entered the _tablinum_ ; the wooden screens had been pulled aside along their track and the glazed doors to the garden stood open a fraction, enough to allow a cool breeze to blow through without disturbing the papers on Master’s desk. Icarus was weeding one of the tubs of flowers, but Willow didn’t have time to admire the garden. 

Master was sitting in his usual chair at the desk, his laptop open on the desk in front of him. Willow came to stand in front of the desk, his _tabula_ ready for him to refer to (it was much easier to read from and take notes on a tablet than the smart-watch set into his wrist bracer). He was only a slave, so did not merit a seat, and it would be ridiculous for him to make a report from a position kneeling on the floor, though he was not exempt from kneeling at other times.

Summer seemed to be hanging on very late this year; it was unseasonably warm and Willow was not looking forward to the cold snap when it finally arrived.

Willow placed a folder on the desk. "All the receipts are there from this month’s shopping, Master. Though there was one trip to the baker’s where their system wasn’t working properly and Junio had to pay from his _pecūlium_ \- that receipt is on top, clearly marked."

Master flipped the folder open. "Eight sesterces, two asses. I see." 

He turned to his laptop for a moment, tapping briefly at it before turning back. "You may inform Junio that ten sesterces has been paid into his fund."

"Yes, Master. I have the quotes you ordered for the remodelling of the kitchen, Master, but you will need to decide what you want to do about that. I’ve sent them to you to look through." Willow had nothing much against the Slavery Bureau’s database, except that it imposed limitations he was sure no slave had laboured under in the centuries before it was set up. A slave, having no legal standing, could not put any contracts into place without some serious authorisations being granted by his master, and the system generally only allowed those from slaves living at an address other than that of their master (such as the managers of estates in the provinces, whose master lived in Rome or another of the Empire’s leading cities). And even then, generally the system forced the master to sign off on it before allowing such a contract to stand - the joys of living in an era of almost instant electronic communication.

"I don’t think the work is likely to start before summer," Master said, the meaning clear: He would not permit any builders to disrupt the household while he was still present. They would only be allowed to start work once he had left Rome for the summer.

"Yes, Master. I shall warn Grumio not to get too excited." Willow glanced down at his _tabula_ again. "There has been a problem with one of the solar panels, I think we have drawn more from the grid this month than usual, although we have not had the heating on, or the climate controls. I have requested an electrician to come and look at it, but if it’s the one that has gone wrong before, it may need to be replaced."

"A fiddly job. It shouldn’t take more than a week, even if they need a part. You have the authorisation for that." Master drummed his fingers on the desk for a moment. "If it turn out that they do need to replace the whole panel, the work will have to be done, but I want to see an estimate first. Preferably more than one."

Willow bowed his head. Requesting an electrician to come and look at faulty equipment was far less problematic than setting up a contract for work as extensive as a kitchen remodel.

"Ven has requested that I allow one of the house slaves to come and clean your rooms while you are both out; he has been struggling to do so himself and fulfil all the other duties you require of him. They will not touch your desk, your bedside table or the _genius_ shrine without your express permission, of course."

The master nodded approvingly; Willow was the one to set duties within the house, the _paterfamilias_ did not concern himself with such details - that was why he had slaves, after all. So long as the chores were done to his satisfaction, what cared he how they were done or who did them?

"I don’t know if you’re making your own appointments, Master, or if you’ve assigned that job to Ven, but Petrus needs to go to the clinic at some point because his hearing aid is playing up again, and," Willow shrugged. 

"Tell Ven, but you have my authorisation to take any of the house slaves to any medical appointments." He tapped at his laptop again, perhaps updating Willow’s authorisations. "Let Ven know when anyone has an appointment they need to attend."

"Yes, Master." He glanced back down at the _tabula_. "I beg leave to inform you that the television in the slaves’ break room has died."

It had been off-colour for almost as long as anyone could remember, and they had grown wary of switching it off because it wouldn’t always come back on first time, so it surprised nobody when it finally refused to come on at all.

"It must have been all of twenty years old, or more. You may purchase a replacement. No more than… a hundred and fifty sesterces, though."

"Yes, Master." The old one would be put out with the recycling, though Minerva knew if there would be anything on it worth salvaging.

He took a breath; he had a personal request to make.

* * *

Moss was in the utility room doing laundry when Willow found him. He was wearing a tunic in the house’s old livery, the undyed linen stained and crumpled. It would keep the new livery tunics looking fresher for longer if they could be kept for front-of-house duties.

He finished emptying the washing-machine, pulling the last of the clean towels into the laundry basket, then set the basket on the counter before turning, and registering Willow’s presence. 

"Did you want me, sir?" he asked, eyes flicking up to Willow’s face before he looked down.

"You’re not in trouble," Willow assured him; Moss was doubtless recalling that particular evening and its aftermath and wondering if he had somehow messed up again. The thought of being sold back to the dealer was never far from a slave’s mind, especially in his first few months in a new owner’s house.

Willow watched the other’s face carefully for signs of what Ven had hinted at the other day. He’d never really had to deal with a crush… and Moss was pretty enough to look at (he’d previously been someone’s _concubīnus_ , Willow would be worried if he _wasn’t_ pretty!). 

He found himself slightly tongue-tied, trying to find a way to broach the subject that wouldn’t leave Moss feeling he _had_ to acquiesce to Willow. 

"I… Ven said, he thinks you’ve got a crush on me," he said in the end, coming further into the room. The second washing machine was getting into its stride now, and he sighed. Moss coloured, dropping his head

"I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to, Moss," he added. "But if you do want to, there’s space upstairs, out of the way - we put Master’s old mattress up there for people who…"

"You don’t have to think you’re making me," Moss answered, as Willow trailed off. He gave a quick grin. "When he said you won’t find a better cock-sucker this side of the Adriatic, he wasn’t lying. If you… If you like that sort of thing, I don’t mind showing you…"

"Maybe later," Willow said, stepping forwards. "Right now, though, I have something else in mind." 

They were standing nearly toe to toe now, and it didn’t take anything for Willow to press his mouth to Moss’. There was a slight sound of surprise before Moss was kissing back, and he found his hands tangled gently in Moss’ soft honey-blond hair.

As first kisses went, it wasn’t particularly awkward, though Willow thought that was probably mostly because he’d taken Moss by surprise. More luck than judgement.

"I won’t… you don’t need to worry that I might take advantage, of you being Master’s steward," Moss said, as the kiss broke. "I have things to do."

"I can’t think when I last took second place, over the laundry," Willow replied with a laugh. 

"At least it isn’t ironing," Moss retorted, and moved back in for another kiss.

Second kisses were definitely better.

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:  
>  _tablinum_ \- study or home office, used by the master of the house  
>  _tabula_ \- tablet computer  
>  _pecūlium_ \- a slave's pocket money, savings for him to buy his freedom  
>  _concubīnus_ \- male concubine, male bed-slave


End file.
